


Things that are deadly

by cnroth



Series: When We All Fall Asleep [2]
Category: Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angry Sex, Bathroom Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Making Love, Post-Episode: s07e12 The Emperor's New Cloak, Voyager Mirror March, turbolift sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 07:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cnroth/pseuds/cnroth
Summary: “For weeks, you’ve both been driving me crazy with your bickering, your flirting, your obsession with getting each other’s notice. I need you both to have your heads in this mission. So just fuck already.”—mirror!Captain JanewayA few missing scenes from chapter 3 of my Mirror March submission, “When we all fall asleep, where do we go?”





	Things that are deadly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [devovere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devovere/gifts).



> For the wonderful beta of my Mirror March submission, who, after reading it the first time, remarked that she was “the teensiest bit disappointed that we don’t get Paris/Kim smut.” Devo, I know you’ve been super busy with important life stuff, so I really appreciate your time and valuable feedback. <3
> 
> Thanks to MiaCooper for lending me her expert beta skills on this one.
> 
> Set between the second and fourth scenes of chapter 3.

Harry burst out of the captain’s office, Tom following closely on his heels, and stomped down the corridor to the nearest head. The moment the door hissed shut behind Tom, Harry whirled on him. “What the _fuck_ is your problem, Paris?”

Tom lifted his hands in surrender. “Whoa there, big guy.”

Harry shoved Tom’s chest. “No, fuck you! Unlike you, I want to make something of myself. But you just can’t stand it when Captain Janeway notices anyone but you, can you?”

“Harry—“

“You think that just because she likes the way you fuck her means that you should be the center of attention? Well, guess what, Paris? There’s more to rank and position than sex.”

Tom smirked. “Oh, there’s plenty to say for position in sex.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak but only managed to stammer, Tom’s joke derailing his thoughts.

Tom leaned closer, long blonde lashes lowering over bright blue eyes. “I can show you, if you like.”

Harry’s groin tensed, but he shook his head and walked towards the row of sinks. “There you go again. Joke, joke, joke. Can’t you take anything seriously?”

“Why? It’s more fun to joke around.”

“Because this isn’t about having fun!” Harry shouted as he spun around to face Tom. “The whole universe is a pile of shit, and the only way we survive is by being smart and gaming the system. We win or we die. And you know what gets you killed? Joking the fuck around.”

“No,” Tom snapped, face flushing and real anger overtaking his tone, “what gets you killed is letting your feelings get the best of you, yet here I am.”

The words stopped Harry short, pulling tightness into his chest. “What do you mean?”

Tom sighed, casting his gaze sideways for a moment before turning those striking eyes once more on Harry. “I mean that I like you. I have… feelings… for you. I wish I didn’t, but there you go.”

All the air seemed to leave Harry’s lungs at once. A cacophony of emotions swelled within him—anger clashing with desire, frustration dancing with hope. His heart raced. He had to remind himself to breathe. Somehow, he managed to convey a relative degree of calm when he said, “So Janeway was right, then.”

“Was she? Was she right about you?”

“Yes,” Harry said without hesitation. “You annoy the shit out of me, but for some reason I can’t stop thinking about you.”

A shy smile curved Tom’s lips. “Alright then. Glad we got that worked out.”

Harry clenched his hands into fists to hide the tremors coursing through them. “That’s it? You think this magically fixes everything? You humiliated me in front of everyone! How the fuck am I supposed to earn any respect with you constantly undermining me?”

Tom’s brief show of vulnerability dissipated with a shake of his head. “Come on, Harry. They all respect you. You’re the brilliant one who’s always coming up with new ways to get shit done that no one else would ever think of. You never had to fuck your way into Janeway’s good graces because she’s always respected your mind. I’ll never get that. All anyone sees when they look at me is a whore.”

“Oh, please. Spare me the self-pity. Everyone knows you’re the best pilot in the sector.”

“That doesn’t matter when you’ve got a reputation like mine.”

“Yeah? Well, whose fault is that?”

Tom’s eyes bulged. He advanced on Harry like an ion storm, swelling and squalling until he collided with Harry’s body and sent them both stumbling back to the sink. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about my life. You don’t know where I’ve been, why I am the way I am, or what I’ve had to do to survive. You say you’ve been thinking about me, but how come you’ve never bothered to talk to me? Huh? Do you even give a shit about me—the _real_ me—or do you just want a chance to play with everyone’s favorite toy?”

Harry honestly didn’t know what to say. How many nights had he spent alone in his bed with a plug up his ass and his dick in his hand imagining what a night with Tom could be like? He wanted Tom, no doubt about that, but he’d always questioned the man’s depth of personality. Tom was arrogant, egocentric, and shallow. Harry hated people like him. Normally, he had no interest in them at all.

Yet all he could think about was that fantasy.

Heat flared in his groin, balls tightening and cock bulging against Tom’s body. He parted his lips on a breath, suddenly unable to get enough oxygen. It didn’t help. An electric current seemed to run through him, crackling along his nerves.

His secret was out. He needed to take charge of the situation, but he was frozen in place.

Before Harry had a chance to issue any orders or make any demands, Tom grabbed his face and kissed him. His supple lips moved against Harry’s, arguing the point without actually speaking a word. He shoved his fingers into Harry’s long, black hair, pulling the strands taut, then tipped Harry’s head back.

”Tell me to stop,” he murmured against Harry’s lips.

”Don’t stop,” Harry whispered, capturing Tom’s mouth again.

Tom moaned. He was so hard, grinding against Harry in a way sent a white-hot bolt of pleasure searing through Harry’s bones.

Harry wanted to devour the man right there, to suck his lips right off his face, to bite into tender flesh and feel him flinch, to press him against a wall and fuck him until both his anger and his desire were satisfied.

No, that wasn’t what he wanted. That wasn’t the fantasy that had plagued him for months on end. He wanted the experience of Tom’s most gossiped-about skill. He wanted the delicious feeling of Tom coming inside him. Most of all, he wanted a goddamn break from being the one responsible for his own orgasms.

He tore his lips from Tom’s. “Fuck me.”

“With pleasure,” Tom replied, slipping a hand between them to undo Harry’s pants and then his own. He pushed the garments down until they pooled around their ankles. His cock sprang free, the fevered skin brushing against Harry’s own for the first time and making Harry gasp. Tom inverted Harry’s shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Gripping Harry’s hips so tightly it hurt, Tom spun him around towards the sink.

Harry rested his palms on the cool countertop, tilting his hips back and taking a deep breath to relax his whole body.

When Tom reached around Harry to dispense lube into one hand—God, was Harry grateful to the captain for adding that particular item to every community head on her ship—he pressed his cock against Harry’s ass and nipped at his earlobe before retreating. Then Tom’s slippery fingers were tracing down from the base of Harry’s spine to the tight ring of muscles between his buttocks, circling around his asshole and sliding inside.

Harry grunted and leaned back, pushing against Tom’s hand.

“You don’t need any warming up, do you?” Tom said.

“I know what I want and when.”

“And what you want right now is for me to fuck you.”

“Yes,” Harry rasped, irritation rising again. Was Tom trying to make him beg?

But Tom didn’t press the issue. Instead, he was silent as he retracted his fingers and pushed that luscious cock all the way into Harry’s ass.

Harry sucked in a deep breath, muscles contracting and relaxing around Tom’s welcome invasion of his body. He pressed back against Tom’s hips, that long body curling around his.

Tom used his lube-coated hand to play with Harry’s cock, running a teasing finger down and around the shaft before wrapping him in a tight grip and pumping slowly.

Harry’s mind simply couldn’t make itself up, hips bucking against Tom’s hand and then tilting back to meet Tom’s body.

“Just relax,” Tom murmured in his ear. “Let me do the work and you just enjoy getting fucked.”

Harry growled but he did as he was told, pressing his palms against the countertop and lifting his tailbone to pull Tom even deeper. At some point, a quiet hiss of the door announced the entry of a third party into the head, but Tom didn’t say a word and Harry didn’t care.

Let them see.

His body wound tighter and tighter, like strings on a violin trembling and singing as they were tuned, until he snapped. A keening cry escaped his lips; he didn’t even try to bite it back. Every muscle in his pelvis spasmed, pushing a stream of warm fluid from his cock that flowed into the sink basin and dribbled on Tom’s hand. A second later Tom groaned, hips stuttering as his own cock pulsed and emptied inside Harry.

When he was finished, Tom pulled out and licked his hand clean. He looped his arms around Harry’s body, holding him up against his chest. Harry was spent and panting, muscles quivering. He didn’t resist Tom’s embrace. Tom bent to kiss his neck, playing his fingers lightly over Harry’s muscular torso.

What had Harry even been angry about? For the life of him, he couldn’t remember. He sighed, watching their reflections in the mirror. Tom’s touch was so soothing that he didn’t even acknowledge Master Gunner Cavit when he walked out of his stall and stood beside them to wash his hands. Why should he? Cavit was beneath him.

“Does the QM know you’re in here?” Cavit asked.

“She knows we left the meeting together,” Tom said.

“Feel free to tell her what you saw and heard,” Harry said, pulling his hazy thoughts together so he could put the gunner in his place. “I’m sure she’ll very much enjoy that report coming from you.” He glanced over, giving Cavit a wicked smile. “Maybe she’ll even reward you for being in the right place at the right time.”

“Or punish you for missing half the show,” Tom added.

“Either way, you’d better hurry to her quarters before she finds some other snitch to fuck.”

Cavit growled, his eyes narrowing to slits, but he knew better than to talk back to a superior. He pressed his hands to the drying panels, then turned on a heel and left.

Tom buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck and burst out laughing.

Harry wasn’t much for jokes and humor, but even he had to smile. “Hey,” he said, getting Tom’s attention. “Dinner at my place?”

Tom rested his chin on Harry’s shoulder, blue eyes meeting Harry’s in the mirror. “I thought you’d never ask.”

* * *

On their way to Harry’s quarters, the pair stopped by the mess hall and Tom selected a surprisingly excellent Terran wine. Although the date was unexpected, Harry always had energy rations saved up, so he synthesized shrimp with fettran sauce, flambé noodles, and fudge ripple pudding. It was a splurge but, after their tryst in the head, he felt too damn good to care. 

They talked about where they grew up—Tom near the intendant’s palace in San Francisco, Harry in South Carolina—and how they’d been recruited to work on Janeway’s ship. They discussed the captain’s latest mission and the devastatingly handsome rebel she’d temporarily joined forces with.

Tom tried to act apathetic about the whole thing, but when Harry pressed him he admitted that it seemed a bit crazy. “We’ve got a solid arrangement with the intendant right now,” he said. “Why throw away a good thing?”

“Because the intendant won’t be around forever, and there’s no telling what the next intendant will do with us. I doubt they’ll give us as much leeway or let us keep as much of the profit… if they let us stay in business at all.”

“You really think it’ll work? Their plan?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I do. The captain’s never done wrong by us before.”

Tom snorted. “Yeah, but have you noticed the way she looks at that Captain Chakotay? I mean, not that I blame her. I’d let him fuck me anytime, anywhere. But still, I’m not sure if she’s using her head on this one.”

“She is,” Harry insisted. Deep down, he had to admit that he was a little nervous, too, but he refused to allow his faith in the captain to be shaken. She’d been good to them, to him. “She’ll get it done, one way or another. And then… just think about where we’ll be able to go. What we’ll be able to do.”

“Anything we want, anywhere we want,” Tom said, sliding a foot up Harry’s leg. “Besides, it is kinda thrilling—“ his foot tracked up Harry’s thigh— “pulling an impossible mission that’ll turn us into outlaws.”

Harry shuddered, cock straining against his pants. “We’ll be proper pirates.”

Tom hummed, his toes toying with Harry’s cock before he pressed the arch of his foot against it and began to flex back and forth. “With the ability to appear and disappear like ghosts.”

Harry moaned, gripping the edge of the table and rolling his hips in time with Tom’s ministrations. “God, Tom.”

“Yes, Harry?”

“This is… if you kick me—“

“Don’t worry,” Tom soothed. “My feet are almost as dexterous as my hands.”

“But… but we still have... all this to clean up, and—“

“We’ll clean up later. Right now, I think it’s your turn to fuck me.”

With those words, suddenly all Harry could think about was Tom writhing beneath him as he fucked him into the mattress. His cock twitched.

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Strip,” Harry said.

Tom flashed a mischievous grin, got to his feet and sauntered to Harry side, unhooking one shirt button after another as he went. By the time he reached Harry, he was slipping the last button out of place. Harry expected him to immediately pull his shirt off, but Tom surprised him by grabbing the seat of Harry’s chair and turning it to face him. Then Tom unfastened his pants, sliding them all the way down and stepping out.

Harry reached for him, palming Tom’s erection and shifting the flap of his boxers to let his cock peek out. He leaned forward, flicking his tongue over the tip and making the whole appendage twitch.

Tom groaned, bracing both hands on Harry’s shoulders.

Harry repeated the gesture, invigorated by how readily Tom’s body reacted to the slightest touch. Then, without warning, he swallowed Tom whole. Tom moaned, one hand bolting into Harry’s hair, hips bucking as Harry sucked on his cock. With his tongue, he swirled around and around the head, stopping every so often to lick the seam underneath.

“Harry,” Tom murmured between gasps.

Pulling away from Tom with a pop, Harry stood and began removing his own clothes. “I said strip. And get your ass in bed.”

Tom scurried to carry out Harry’s orders, a response that made Harry’s cock throb even more.

As he stepped out of his own pants and boxers, Harry strode over to his bedside table and retrieved a bottle of lube. Tom was already naked, propped on hands and knees in Harry’s bed, ready to be taken.

Except something in Harry said this wasn’t what he wanted. Another image came to mind, calming his domineering side with the promise of an even sweeter reward. “Turn over,” he said, greasing up his hands.

A slight frown crossed Tom’s face, but he did as he was told.

Harry climbed onto the bed, coaxing a pillow under Tom’s hips and kneeling between his legs. He said nothing, simply allowing his eyes to graze over Tom’s features—dark-blonde hair, wide forehead, blue eyes gone almost completely black, strong cheeks tapering down to a pointed chin, thick neck, broad shoulders, lean body, long limbs. He was just on the verge of being awkward, but somehow it made him all the more attractive.

There was a mess of scars marring Tom’s chest—scars that Harry had just learned were a product of a heavy-handed father attempting to turn his headstrong son into a pilot so skilled it wouldn’t matter that he was Terran. They were horrible. Harry bent to kiss every single one. He trailed his lips downward, pressing them to Tom’s thighs as he slipped a finger between Tom’s buttocks to tease his asshole.

Tom tensed—legs lifting, eyes snapping shut, and lungs sucking in a deep breath. “Put it in,” he begged, and Harry did. One finger at a time, he worked Tom up until he was ready.

Then, slicking wet hands over his own cock, Harry eased inside.

Tom’s mouth was hanging open, his chin pointing up and his head pressing into the pillow. His fingers curled into the bedsheets so tightly the knuckles turned white. For a moment, Harry worried he might have hurt him, but then Tom muttered, “God, Harry, you feel so good,” and began to rock his hips.

Harry reached for Tom’s face, tugging his chin down and cupping his cheek. “Tom, look at me.” When Tom’s eyes blinked open and focused on Harry’s face, Harry rewarded him with the slow, smooth undulation of his hips. He kept his voice soft and gentle as he said, “I want to see your eyes.”

He could feel Tom tense around him, could see the hesitation on that beautiful face.

“Look into my eyes, Tom. Please. I want to see your eyes while we make love. Is that alright?”

Tom swallowed. He took Harry’s hand, lifted it to his lips, and nodded. “Okay.”

Harry pulled Tom’s hands to his hips for support, then braced one palm on Tom’s chest while he wrapped his other around Tom’s cock and began to stroke in syncopation with the movement of his hips. The burn was much slower than their earlier encounter, less about the initial explosion of heat and more about the enduring flame left in its wake. After a while, Tom hooked his knees over Harry’s shoulders, drawing Harry even deeper inside.

When Harry came—his body relenting after Tom shouted, asshole tightening around Harry’s cock and semen spilling onto his hand—the pleasure was so deep and intense that neither one of them could bear to move at all for a while. Eventually the moment passed, and Harry slipped out of his lover’s skin. He tugged the pillow from beneath Tom’s hips, grabbed a washcloth from the nightstand to clean up, then leaned over and kissed him deeply.

Tom slid his hands into Harry’s hair, wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, and pulled him down. He rolled them both sideways as he threaded his tongue between Harry’s lips and kissed him until he couldn’t breathe.

When Tom finally broke the kiss, Harry traced the shape of his face with a finger and said, “I guess you liked that, huh?”

“I had no idea it could be like that,” Tom answered with a grin. “Harry, that was… you are… amazing.”

“Don’t get too sappy on me, Paris. We’re about to be hardened outlaw pirates, remember?”

Tom laughed, a sound that seemed to come more easily than Harry was used to. “Don’t worry, Har. I won’t let it leave this room.”

* * *

Harry’s alarm went off at 0600 as always, blaring through the com. He ordered the lights on their lowest setting.

“The fuck?” Tom mumbled. “It’s so early.”

“I like to work out before shift.”

“Kahless the Unforgettable,” he cursed.

“I hope you don’t speak to your intendant with that kind of language.”

Tom gave a slight shake of his head, still not opening his eyes. “I mostly talk dirty to her. She’s not much for conversation.”

Harry laughed. “God, Tom, is there a female superior you haven’t fucked?”

“The intendant’s daughter. B’Elanna. Never fucked her.”

“Ah.”

“And technically _all_ Alliance women are my superiors, so… there’s a lot of them.”

Harry patted Tom’s stomach. “Well, good luck with that.”

Tom caught his hand, squeezing it gently. He opened his eyes, bleary and wet from sleep, and fixed them on Harry. “I’d rather have you.”

A smile curled Harry’s lips. He squeezed Tom’s hand in return, then bent down and kissed him. “You have me.”

“Good.”

“Go back to sleep, Tom. I’ll wake you when I’m done.”

Tom closed his eyes. “Okay.”

* * *

By the time Harry returned from the gym, Tom was already in the shower. Harry wanted to peel off his clothes and join him, but that could very possibly make them late—and of all days, this was not a day Harry wanted to be late. Besides, for all he knew, Tom wouldn’t enjoy the surprise. The man played a smooth game, but in truth he was a somewhat skittish person, still so deeply wounded from abuses Harry suspected came from more than just his father.

So instead, he waited.

Evidently Tom hadn’t gone back to sleep after Harry left. He wandered over to the food synthesizer and noticed Tom had cleaned up the remnants of their dinner from the night before. The area was as pristine as Harry always kept it. Even Tom’s discarded clothes were gone. The gesture brought a smile to his face. He ordered a peanut butter banana protein shake and sat at the table.

It wasn’t long before Tom strode out of the head, a towel slung low across his hips. His skin was flushed from the heat, and he looked positively content.

God, he was gorgeous.

Tom smiled. “Have a good workout?”

“I did. Thanks for cleaning up our dinner.”

Tom shrugged. “No problem.” He sauntered away, hips swaying in an exaggerated manner, to the synthesizer meant for textiles. He plugged in his own ID number and, a moment later, pulled out a fresh outfit. With a firm tug, the towel fell to the floor, revealing the tight curves of his ass.

Suddenly, Harry was very aware of his own body. He forced himself to stand, recycle his glass, and shut himself in the head.

It would be a cold shower for him this morning.

* * *

The shower didn’t help. Focusing extra hard on drying his hair didn’t help. Even trying to get upset that Tom had left his shavings behind in Harry’s sink didn’t help. All Harry wanted to do was rip Tom’s clothes off and spend the entire day together in bed.

But they had a mission to pull off, and they had to be ready.

It was a long trip in the lift to get from Harry’s quarters to the bridge. Almost as soon as the lift doors closed behind them, Tom pinned him to the wall and kissed him.

“Tom,” he protested, wrenching his mouth away even as his hands pulled Tom close and his hips ground against his lover’s.

Tom flashed a roguish smile. “Make up your mind, will you? Do you wanna fuck or not?”

“Yes. N-no.” He panted. “If we’re late, Captain’ll kill us.”

“Nah,” Tom said, locking his lips on the pulse point in Harry’s neck and sucking the skin between his teeth.

“Tom,” Harry breathed. But Janeway’s entire reason for calling them out the day before was that she wanted them focused on the mission, and at the moment, all he could focus on was Tom’s body—that mouth on his neck, the chypre smell of his skin, the nimble fingers teasing Harry’s cock. “ _Ching Shih_ , halt lift.”

Tom grinned, flicked Harry’s pants open, and sank to his knees. He hummed as he sucked on Harry’s cock, and Harry couldn’t help but moan and goad him on as he fucked that glorious mouth.

Tom was good, using one hand to assist so he could focus on the head, twisting and flicking his tongue in ways Harry had never even thought of, pulling with just the right amount of pressure to build Harry’s climax quickly without over-stimulating him. It wasn’t long before Harry was overwhelmed, warmth becoming torrid heat that ignited with a pulsing, aching outburst and flowed onto Tom’s waiting tongue. Tom swallowed him down, sucking the fluid out like he couldn’t get enough.

Harry gasped, leaning on Tom’s shoulders, thrusting his hips a few more times until he was done. “Oh, God.”

Tom eased his mouth off Harry’s cock, sat back on his heels, and tucked Harry back into his boxers. “Feel better?”

Harry only nodded, the sound of an opsmate’s voice on the com cutting off any words he might have tried to form.

“Harry Kim and Tom Paris, report to the bridge immediately. Repeat, Harry Kim and Tom Paris are required on the bridge immediately.”

“Shit,” Harry muttered as he closed his pants.

Tom rose to his feet, pressing a chaste kiss to Harry’s lips. “Don’t worry, Har, that’s just a first warning. I’ve been in worse trouble with her before, but I always manage to talk myself out of it.”

Harry snorted. “Talk. Right. Unlike you, I have no interest in giving the captain sexual favors. _Ching Shih_ , resume lift.” When Tom nuzzled his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, a thought struck him and he jerked away. “Wait, Tom, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Don’t you need to…” he gestured vaguely towards Tom’s hips, frowning when he realized there was no bulge in his pants.

Tom chuckled. “I yanked off in the shower. I should be set until tonight.”

“In... the shower,” Harry echoed.

Tom grinned and tapped Harry’s nose. “I thought of you the whole time.”

“That’s not—I meant—“ Harry groaned. “Then why did you jump me?”

Tom laced his fingers with Harry’s. “You’ve looked miserable ever since you saw me wearing that towel. We have orders to follow here. You need your head in the mission.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to help.”

Harry hung his head, his sigh melting into a breathy laugh. The lift slowed, switched tracks, and shot up for its final approach to the bridge. Harry raised his chin, stole one final kiss, then did his best to look professional. “Thank you.”

Tom squeezed his hand. “Anytime.”


End file.
